Dramione
by AllieJannie
Summary: Technically, these are all one shots dedicated to my OTP–Draco and Hermione! Some are going to be AU, and there are going to be a few bashings in other chapters.
1. Chapter 1

_**This is for the OTP AU! Competition. The Prompt: I try to shoplift my favourite sweets and tuck too much of them into my jacket but I bump into you and they all fall to the ground so I scream RUN RUN TAKE ALL YOU CAN CARRY and you do and we hide somewhere and share the prey AU**_

 _ **P.S. Hermione is a tiny bit drunk here ;) then again, who doesn't like a drunk Hermione?**_

 **Bars of Rheo**

Hermione Granger tumbled into the store at the middle of the night, giggling uncontrollably. Ever since Luna and she decided to go on a girls' night out, she found herself wandering out of the club and on the streets of Toronto. Ah, bless summer vacations, and curse Ronald fucking Weasley. Let him die in a hole for all she care. "Ron and Brown went up the hill to fetch themselves some condom. Ron fell down and lose his balls then Brown died from stupidity," she sang under her breath, an unusual bubbly smile on her lips. She skipped down the aisles of the shop, eyeing the items on the shelves.

Dresses.

Shoes.

Cookies.

Chips.

Chocolates.

A dead cockroach.

The bushy eighteen-year-old stopped and backed up. Her jaw dropped and a squeal erupted from her lips. Pupils dilated, she waddled towards the large stacks of bars and wrappers, and her grin only widened. "Rheo!" Hermione jumped up and down; she ignored the cashier's craning head. This was heavenly. The heavenliest chocolate in the universe! No one could match it. She fished her wallet to grab a couple of dollars and pay for the–SHIT.

Her wallet was completely void of any money, even her credit cards are gone but where... Luna. "Luna, Luna, Lo-ovegood. You are incredible. But you still are a giant bitch, for switching my wallet w-ith yours," this time, she whispered the words in a tune of "Twinkle Twinkle Little Stars". "Luna, Luna, Lo-ovegood. fuck you, fuck you, fuck you." She finished with a drunken grin.

Then an idea went to her mind, a bloody amazing one.

Hermione gasped. She peeked at the cashier and ducked her head, and she started to snicker. Yes. This was the only way for her to get her favorite sweets. Nodding solemnly, she grabbed the small little Rheo bars and slipped it into the pockets of her Trench coat. Seizing another ten, she put it in the other pockets. Then another ten. The brunette didn't even bother to count already, but when she was done, the bars of chocolate that were on the shelf were already bulging out from her pockets.

"I have succeeded," she pumped her fists up in the air. "Now," she whipped her head from left to right. "to escape from this damned hell ward."

Hermione snuck backward with her feet in tip toes and her back hunched. Backing up against the shelves of toys, she made a Barry Allen move and ran to the exit. She would've made it. She really would've, but when a lean chest magically appeared out of nowhere, she found herself knocked onto the ground with her sweets scattered across the floor, alerting the cashier's attention. "Granger?" The said woman didn't even bother to look up at the man's face when she could see the cashier thundering towards them.

"RUN!" She yelled, grabbing half of the bars from the floor and carried them closer to her chest. "RUN! TAKE ALL YOU CAN CARRY."

Adrenaline pumped in her veins, and she sprinted across the street (it was a good thing there were almost no cars at sight). Glancing back, she could see a leather-clad man from earlier following her lead with a bunch of chocolate bars around his arms. He was spouting out curses that weren't exactly easy on the ears. Farther back, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that there were no angry cashiers following them this time. She walked in a bright cafe, dumping all her sweets on the table, ignoring the way the waiter was eyeing her. One minute later, another rain of sweets dropped on the table.

"Thank you so much–Malfoy?" Hermione said in disbelief, looking at her blond rival. They were always at each other's throats in high school, technically, she couldn't even escape from his smirking face for even a week. Row, row, row, the boat gently down to hell. Go on Malfoy, Go on Malfoy–

"Are you drunk?" He wrinkled his nose. "Ugh, it's probably some cheap shot down the pub. Is that what's it like to not taste some good whiskey or tequila?"

"Oh, screw you. At least I got sweets."

"Sweets. I can't believe you shoplifted sweets. You could've shoplifted something like–"

She crossed her arms, "I like sweets, but since you helped me... I might be willing to share them if you decide to tone down the insults."

There was a moment of pause.

Draco Malfoy scrutinized his surroundings before sitting down on the seat beside him, "Fine, but only because your drunk-like state amuse me."

"One little, two little, three little chocolates, four little," she paused, munching on the chocolate as he let out a chuckle. "Oh, and Draco?"

"What?" The blond man raised an eyebrow at the first-name use.

"I'm taking you up on that, the whiskey and the tequila thing."

He gave a wolfish grin, "Oh, Hermione, you haven't taste anything till you try my cousin's good bottle of Ogden's."

And as they sat there talking about books, exes, and tampons (don't ask), Hermione smiled to herself. Maybe Draco Malfoy wasn't so bad after all.

Besides, his favorite sweet's also Rheo.

Technically, things couldn't get any better.


	2. His Offer

**His Offer**

Hermione was looking forward for today. She really was. Today's the day that all her planning would actually pay off. Christmas Balls weren't exactly the easiest to plan, especially when she was worrying about the piling schoolwork from Ancient Runes and Potions (her new Professor seemed to have a similar dislike to Gryffindors like Snape was). What she didn't expect was to take care of a sneezing and coughing Slytherin Head Boy with two boneless legs (one should not ask).

She blamed herself for volunteering and insisting that Madame Pomfrey go and enjoy the ball. Then again, she knows how much the resident Hogwarts Healer needed it–apprenticing her, working with hundreds of sick patients, etc. She deserved it.

The bushy-haired Gryffindor glanced at Draco with a sigh, "How are you feeling?"

"I don't see the point on asking me that question every one hour, Granger," he rolled his eyes. "Though if you insist, my head bloody hurts."

Ever since they had entered their seventh (well, it could be considered as their eighth) year, the two had been quite civil with each other. Other than the snide comments and sarcastic remarks, people might already consider them as friends. Hermione glared at him, "Look, it's not exactly my fault that your head hurts. You won't take the potion."

"Screw you," Draco scowled and coughed. "Who gives a potion that taste like dirt?"

The seventh year made no comments. Without wasting another second, her hand pulled on his jaw to open his mouth while the other poured the potion down his throat. He spluttered and coughed, but after she pinched the bridge of his nose, he gulped it down quickly. The Slytherin crossed his arms, "Let's face it, Granger, you bloody suck as a healer. I mean, who shoves a stinking potion down a person's throat?"

"Obviously a good one. Now, sleep, Malfoy."

"I swear, you're a bloody Slytherin some times. I wonder why you haven't been sorted there."

Hermione smirked, "Muggleborn."

"Well said."

A few minutes had passed and brown and grey eyes continued to have a staring match. The blond Slytherin hesitated at first before saying, "Say, Granger... I don't know why you want to stay in the hospital wing with me."

"Don't flatter yourself. Madame Pomfrey deserves a break, this is the Christmas Ball."

"If you want, I could take you out in Hogsmeade next week as a token of thanks," Draco gave a smirk worthy of a Slytherin.

"Hmm... tempting."

"I'll give you a signed copy of William Shakespeare's work?"

"Hogsmeade it is, Draco."

And it was that.


	3. Red Riding Hood

**Red Riding Hood**

Hermione Granger took one last look at her old worn bed before pulling her dark red hood over her face. Without another mutter, she walked out of her cottage and into the hot, sunny morning. She had news receiving that her grandmother had been bedridden after a few dark cloaked men went into her house to torture her. Though they may not have been close, Hermione thought it would've been a good idea to bring her a few cookies she had baked earlier today.

The brunette sighed.

There have been mysterious disappearance happening past midnight. Wolves, they say. Werewolves, some theorize... she shuddered at the thought. If there's one thing in the world that she didn't want to be, it had to be wolves' meat. "Bloody hell," she said, glancing at the curved path ahead of her. "This is going to be one hell of a walk."

"Hmm, such language," a rough, animalistic growl made her jump, the hairs on her neck standing up almost immediately. Dark eyes met her hazel ones, and Hermione shivered slightly from the way he looked at her... not in a good way either. "Tell me girl, where are you going?"

"My mother told me not to talk to strangers."

If only she had said this in a bold way. She was supposed to be strong for Merlin's sake! Instead, her voice came out in stutters.

The man laughed before grabbing her arm and pulled her close to his chest, "Hmm..." he whispered in her ear. "Scared of the big bad wolf sweetheart?"

"Excuse me," Hermione tried to wriggle away from his grip but he only held her tighter. "I'm supposed to go to my grandmother's."

"Ah, ah, ah," he laughed again, but this time there was something in his eyes that flashed with recognition. "I don't think you'd be seeing her anytime soon, sweetheart, so why don't you just stay here with me?"

All rationality left her mind and the first thing that she did was scream. The grip loosened causing her to sprint and run.

Run... Run... Run...

Let the word repeat and repeat in her head, but she didn't give a flying crap. Her grandmother could wait, she needed to outrun this bloody lunatic! "You can run but you can't hide, sweet–"

Cut!

Slash!

Hermione gasped and glanced at her back to see the tall and monstrous man slumped on the ground with pools of blood surrounding him. There stood a blond man who held an axe close to him. He had a small little smirk but there was a concerned glint in his eyes when he tilted his head towards her. "You okay?" He furrowed his eyebrows.

"Y–you killed him."

He scowled, "A man like Fenrir deserves a death more than that," he rolled his eyes. "What's your name?"

"And how should I know I could trust you?"

The blond man scoffed, "I just killed a man for you, if you must know my name it's Draco."

"..." she hesitated. "Hermione."

Draco smiled and stretched out his hand, "Well, as much as a beautiful girl like you deserves proper circumstances to meet a man, it's nice to meet you."

Hermione eyed the dead man, or 'Fenrir' as he had mentioned earlier, before glancing back at him. "I would say it's nice to meet you too, but in this circumstances..."

He chuckled, his grey eyes sparkling, "I'll bring him to the sheriff now..." he walked to the body, but before he could be on his way, he glanced back at her. "And, Hermione? I would like it if I could see you soon."

"You will," she didn't know why it slipped out of her mouth, but surprisingly, she never bothered to correct it as she went on her way.

Because, somehow, Draco is definitely an interesting guy she'd love to meet again... and again.


End file.
